Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
| Nausicaä she keeps her thoughts raised high |
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Nausicaä’s story, short and largely uneventful thus far, is this: she was born upon an island to the southwest, a little smaller than the one they call Luthien, and until now has dwelt there all her days. The truth of it is, she’s been alive for nigh-on three years, but she’s never really felt alive. Not until a Stranger washed in upon her shore, half-drowned and near death. Do not worry, for he did not die, and Nausicaä’s heart has not been struck with the sting of grief. But longing... Her longing consumes her. And it took an ending, of sorts - a parting of ways - for the slender, misty-coated black girl’s story to truly begin… The sun was sinking in the sky at an alarming rate, and the lone figure, tossed about roughly in the waves of the sea, felt her heart flutter frantically in her chest. It was more than just the salt of the ocean that made her eyes sting, and the great, ugly welt marring the slender arch of her neck throbbed, as if in condemnation. What if her father had been right? Nausicaä attempted to turn about in a clumsy circle, but it was no use - she had been swimming for so long now that the place she had come from - a lone island in the sea, largely populated by those with a narrow-minded way of thinking - had passed beyond her sight. It felt like submission, the act of turning back, but in doing so, she’d caught a glimpse of something ahead that filled her anew with hope. Another island, so flat from this distance she’d almost missed it. And beyond it, once she’d blinked the tears from her seeing eye and squinted, she could make out a shadow of another isle. Granted her second wind, Nausicaä altered her course and made for the low-lying land she’d discovered (wondering if it was anything like the places the Stranger had told her about, before he’d taken his leave to return to the far-off place that was his home). The path to one’s desires was rarely a smooth one - the dark mare had been told this many times, but here and now, perhaps, was the first time she’d experienced it for herself. The ocean was a living thing, that’s what the Stranger had told her. It had to be respected always, but never trusted. It caught hold of her in a cold current, and pulled her away from the island she sought to reach. Carried her between the sand flats and the island that had been merely a smudged shadow and shape for her before now. Even in her struggle, she could not help but feel awed by the nature of the second - with its lush jungles and towering ridges. But she was not meant for this island, either. Not yet, at least. Nausicaä found herself delivered to an even larger island. Floundering in the rip, it was some time before she could break free and make it to shallower water, and by the time she finally set a dragging hoof upon sand untouched by seafoam, her whole body trembled with from the ordeal, great fatigue settling deep in her very bones. But the sun was low in the sky, and she had little time before night began to set in. So, though she stumbled many times, and her pace was sluggish, the lean appaloosa made her way cautiously inland, stopping frequently to rest (but refusing to relent entirely and bend her knees to the earth), desperate to venture through the rolling meadows and find fresh water to slake her thirst. {And as she sets out for her Ithaka, she hopes her journey is a long one.} |